How could I know that as a small child? How could I know that he had taken his life on a cold January night on a back road near Swanton?

Grandma said he'd be home soon, he just had to go to Toledo to pick up some car parts.

He didn't come home. Ever.

His body was found the next morning. A note and gun lay next to him. He asked for forgiveness.

And he didn't come home again.

I wasn't allowed to go to the funeral home. It wasn't for little girls. But I remember a lot of people coming to the house over the next few days. Lots of people.

But not grandpa. He didn't come home again.

I had a dream about seeing him in a suit. I later found out that was the suit he had on when he was buried. I was asked how I knew since I was never at the funeral home. I think it may have been because I had seen a wonderful picture of my grandfather walking down the street in Toledo. They had street photographers back then. Maybe that was why.

I still remember him. That kind man who always sat at the left side of the kitchen table. He got me a doll for my birthday in 1954. You cranked it and it had a phonograph in it. It would walk and "talk."